We and the beasts are kin. Since, then, the animals are creatures with wants and feelings differing in degree only from our own, they surely have their rights. Ernest Thompson Seton
Living takes Life
(Squirrelyville part three)
predators, survivors, et al.
home Parts one and two - Goldie's babies teenagers
A skillful predator and a cool neighbor.
Some mornings the owls regroup here after a hunt, calling until they're all accounted for before retiring for the day. Awesome; great, graceful birds in smooth, silent flight.
One evening the whole family met on our east hill for a hunting lesson. Dad called, then the two fledglings and
lastly mom answered at intervals from different perches. Dad showed the owlets how to bag a meal. He stepped off the fence and made two graceful turns just for show, then with a screech like grating metal he hit the ground and beat his wings. He demonstrated a few more tricks before they all swooped off toward the cotton fields for a feast.
The nestlings were heard long before they were seen.
Babies of any species have a different tone to their call.
The owlets would be invisible without the magic of Photoshop. To paraphrase Ernest Seton (still good reading): The wonderful thing is not that the owlets blend in with the branches, but that they know it and can profit by it.
Animals have the capacity for logical thought.
Their survival depends on their ability to learn and adapt.
nature can't promise happy endings for everyone.
Ground squirrels borrow a trick from their deadly adversary: the rattlesnake.
Squirrels correctly deduce that snakes are dangerous. So they listen and learn,
and mimic the rattle with a tongue-rolling
whir to discourage other predators.
(Cats aren't fooled by the fake snake sound.)
Everybody in the desert wants to eat the little rodents:Squirrel researchers estimate that 3 out of 4 pups die within the first year. Our population has already dropped by that much since May, when the Billys swarmed like cockroaches on the hill. -- However -- Many of the MIAs haven't become nachos for owls. Some lose turf wars and move on to dig elsewhere.
owls, coyotes, snakes, ugly turkey buzzards the size of a cow.
Hawks do flyovers, but lack the turning ratio to swoop inside the fence. A young roadrunner sometimes scouts the squirrel colonies hoping for a snack, and is always run off by a few vigilante squirrels no bigger than his toe. Most predators aren't so wimpy.
Gopher Snakes help control the rodent population.
hunts the open desert behind the bunkhouse.
Three-Eared Desert Jackrabbit; same family as the cute
cottontail bunnies (family Leporidae) but classed as a hare not a rabbit.
notches on his ears. The hare has been around some,
with his hair styled by brushes of cacti and mesquite. One guy has a bullethole through his poor ear.
Bunny nosing up to the squirrel is this spring's crop.
Although they're different genera, I've observed
a big jack apparently looking out for a baby bunny.
I am not making this up! Plus, the jackrabbit understands a pointing finger. When I moved the south water dish out of Stomp's range, she went to the usual spot then looked at me through the window. The animal watched and followed my directions to find the water.
heads up and feet ready to run. Panic! is a shrill bark followed by a general evacuation. Animals in our neighborhood recognize my warning "gato gato gato" as the red alert category. Low-flying cropdusters and distant sirens don't raise a whisker, but squirrels can spot a turkey buzzard that is barely
a dark spot in the clouds and hear an owl whisper from the top of a tree.
I've decoded a few squirrel hand signs.
Both paws
at the mouth means: "Food, please." And Stomp informed me by
gagging and rubbing his nose that: "Squirrels do not eat cucumber peels."
A Panic! call from any animal or bird is understood and heeded by all.
See the fat squirrel beg for food. The skinny finch
stays outside the fence, out of Stomp's territory.
(We're still working on the concept of sharing.)
Phoebe was a fearful mama, watching over her babies tucked in under the eaves. When danger approached she risked her own feathers to warn them with a low, sad "twee" to shut their beaks. Sometimes they obeyed.
See how they grow...
Fuzz to Feathers to Flight
Phoebe Chicks
fall silent at
mama's whistle.
diversity is nature's way. Vandana Shiva
We've seen thirty different birds in June; from the tiny verdin
to bright woodpeckers to hawks that shadow the sun. We get some interesting stopover guests during fall migration, stilts and other exotic water birds when the skeeter puddle fills up after a hard rain. Some come for the food, others just drop in for the company.
(Pinal County, Arizona, Sonoran desert scrub habitat, 1,427 feet)
(This litter isn't an accurate measure of longevity. Real squirrels don't live in a gated community with catered meals.)
Goldie's kids survivors -- 3 of 5 still alive after two months topside. Alpha has changed his name to Stomp and moved
closer to the food source. Shorty still peeks out from the cave under the scrub creosote. Eek was missing, but recently
led me to her new digs down the trail at the edge of the wash. I know it's Eek because she has a nervous, squeaky hiccup.
each day as their coloration darkens with age and they pack in the groceries.
Shorty has an upturned pug nose and a limbo gait.
Shorty and Sweet at one week topside. Shorty made it, I'm not sure about Sweet.
They all have unique personalities. Some have identifying quirks:
Eek's hiccups, Stomp's yuckface, Dude's belly crawl. Location is the most reliable indicator of who's who. Stomp owns side yard, Shorty is at
her home, the one who greets me
by the dude tree must be Dude.
Happy Trails! Thanks for visiting.
home Squirrelyville babies teenagers predators
Phoebe chicks hatched under the carport
Talk to the crazy squirrel lady photos © Pam Leany
Nathyn goes to Bastyr med school near Seattle
Nathyn goes to med school. |